The Mark of Cain
by highland laurel
Summary: Reposted story: Mingo finds himself responsible for two women and a wounded man as they try to escape from two brutal men. This story is more violent than usual for me.
1. Chapter 1

God bears with the wicked, but not forever

_God bears with the wicked, but not forever._

_ Cervantes_

Mingo crouched behind a clump of sumac bushes. He carefully watched the man before him. He could hear another man's voice raised in anger and a child crying. Inching forward he could see the two wagons through the trees. As he watched the stocky man with several days beard growth brutally pulled on the team's reins, causing the frightened horses to roll their eyes. The man leaned over and hitched the team to the first wagon. 

On the side of the wagon away from him Mingo could see a skirt brushing the ground. Then a small girl toddled under the wagon, her pale face streaked with tears. She stood sucking two fingers as she watched the man pull the reins, pinching the horses' mouths painfully. The near horse kicked out in pain and the child caught the hoof in the center of her chest. She flew several feet through the air, landed hard and did not move. 

Mingo lurched forward but he stopped suddenly as through the trees before him rushed a small man, his face red with anger. From his sheltered observation post Mingo saw a young woman skitter from behind the wagon just as the stranger bent over the still form of the little girl. The young woman began to scream and beat her fists against her head. Another woman rushed to her side from the shadow of the second wagon. 

The stranger knelt beside the still child and touched his hand to her chest. Beside him the woman screamed uncontrollably as the second woman tried to pull her away. The bearded man stood unemotionally beside the agitated horses. The small man gently lifted the little girl and turned to the two women.

"Where can I lay her down? Listen to me! Where can I lay her?"

The second woman beckoned the buckskinned man as she dragged the screaming mother toward the near wagon. Another man appeared, his features amazingly like the first man's. Two boys came to stand stoically beside him. Mingo watched everything from the shelter of his hiding place. 

The younger man shouted to the stranger, "We can't stay here all day waitin' for the little maggot to die!" The faces of the two boys beside him registered no emotion at all. Mingo's concern grew as he saw them turn and disappear behind the second wagon. The man's cruel words caused him to clench his hands in anger.

Suddenly a woman's high-pitched scream echoed off the surrounding trees. The horses pawed the ground nervously and pitched forward against their harness. The brutal man beside them clubbed the first horse over the end of his sensitive nose with a piece of firewood. The animal's squeal of pain blended with the woman's screams. Just then the stranger reappeared and roughly took the man's arm.

"I need a shovel. I'm goin' to bury that child decent, and you're goin' to wait 'til I do!"

To Mingo's surprise the bearded man laughed, the sound reminiscent of leather dragged over gravel. The slight man reacted by grabbing the man's collar. "I said I need a shovel."

"So you did, mister. And I'm goin' to get you one." The stocky man sauntered to the wagon bed and lifted a shovel from the contents. "Here you go. Knock yourself out."

The stranger's rugged face registered his disbelief. "Don't you have any feelin's? That little girl was your daughter, wasn't she?"

"So?"

From the forest Mingo could see the other man's eyes grow wide in anger. 'Don't do it,' Mingo said in his mind. He held his breath and tightened his muscles, ready to spring to the stranger's defense. But the slight man only grabbed the shovel and strode angrily around the wagon.

Above the sound of the shovel rose the high keening wail of a grieving woman. Shivers ran up Mingo's spine as the sound continued. The bearded man strode around the wagon and Mingo heard the sharp sound of the slap. Instantly the wailing stopped. 

"What'd you do that for mister? That ain't right!" Mingo heard the stranger's voice raised in anger. Uncoiling his whip as he ran, Mingo dodged through the trees to circle behind the bearded man. Just as the brute lurched for the stranger's throat, the small man swung his shovel and struck a heavy blow to his attacker's head. The sharp bark of a rifle sent a ball into the slender man's left side. 

Mingo cracked his whip and disarmed the other traveler. Drawing the whip in another whistling arc he caught the shooter's right hand, splitting a five inch gash in the palm. Both boys stood stiffly behind the howling man. The stranger leaned against the nearest tree, his left hand pressed over the bloody hole in his side. 

The two women sat huddled together on the ground and looked at the tall Cherokee standing over them. On the ground before them lay the body of the little girl, her chest bloody and her blue eyes staring sightlessly at the leafy vault above her. Mingo gestured to the women. 

"This man needs care. Please help him to sit." 

Neither woman moved. They continued to stare at Mingo, fear plainly written on their features. He moved carefully to the woodsman's side, never taking his eyes off the cursing man with the bloody palm.

"Can you sit?" he asked the wounded man. He nodded, and slowly sank to the ground, holding his breath against the pain. Mingo bent and picked up the other man's rifle, balancing it carefully across the sitting man's knees. Then, dropping his whip, he pulled a length of rope from his pack and tied the unconscious man that had dropped from the shovel blow. He strode to the other man and roughly pushed him to sit in front of a wagon wheel. He pulled the man's hands through the wheel, then tied him firmly to the wooden spokes.

"Boys, can you help me?" Mingo spoke to the two boys who appeared to be near the ages of six and eight. Neither child gave any indication that they heard his question. Mingo cocked his head as he waited. When they remained speechless, he turned to the two women.

"Ma'am," he said to the younger woman. "Please help us. I will bury the child. I mean no harm to any of you. This man tried to help you. I think he deserves your care, don't you?" 

After several seconds the younger woman rose and stepped to the wounded man's side. She bent and helped him rise, then they rounded the corner of the wagon out of Mingo's sight. Mingo then turned his attention to the child and her partly dug grave. Sorrowfully he finished digging. The child's mother remained beside the little girl, rocking in grief. When he finished the grave, Mingo bent to the young mother.

"Do you have a blanket to wrap her body?" His voice was soft and sympathetic. She responded to his tone, silently rose and reached into the wagon for a blanket. She handed it to him and watched passively as he tenderly wrapped the little body. Then he laid her in the grave and filled it. When the earth was all smoothed the young mother lay down silently upon it. Mingo left her there to grieve and went to check on the small hunter.

Mingo found him lying on the ground with a folded cloth over the wound. His face was pale and moist, his eyes closed. Mingo touched his shoulder and the man opened his blue eyes. Suddenly Mingo's mind reached for a memory thread. The small man beckoned for Mingo to bend.

"This woman told me she and the other woman, I think she said her name was Pearl, want to get away from these two. I guess what we saw here is just an example of what their life's been like."

Mingo stared into the other man's eyes. The hunter frowned. "What'er you lookin' at me like that for, Injun. You look like you think I'm agoin' to turn into a haint."

"Charles? You are Charles Hays, are you not?"

The buckskinned man tried to pull himself upright. Mingo pushed down on his shoulder and prevented the rise. Then he reached and pulled his long black hair behind his head. His dark eyes sparkled. The hunter stared at Mingo's face several seconds, searching.

"You taught me how to be at ease in the woods twelve years ago. Remember me now? There was a storm, and you shared my shelter."

"The young man with the books and the mule! Sure I remember. That storm seared my eyeballs and busted my eardrums. The mule 'bout pulled his fool head off. I cain't seem to grab a holt o' your name though."

"Mingo."

"That's it fer sure. I recollect that I thought your name didn't match your fancy way o' talkin'. It still don't. It do match your get-up though. I'm surely happy to have your comp'ny agin. I'd fergot that you could crack a whip liken a rifle shot!"

"We can talk later, Charles. Now I want to see how badly you're wounded."

"Wall, I been shot worse and mauled worse. But I won't say this ball don't hurt."

Mingo pulled the cloth off the wound. The woman had cleaned the blood from the wound but not extracted the ball. Mingo carefully examined the hole, then rolled Charles to the side and looked at his back. He could see where the ball was lodged, near the surface in Charles' lower back. 

"Charles, I can see the ball under your skin. That's actually a blessing. I can easily

remove it." Mingo patted Charles' shoulder encouragingly. 

Charles lay full length on the ground. Mingo looked up and saw the young woman coming through the woods towards them. She carried a load of firewood. Mingo took out his flint and steel and made a quick fire. Silently she placed a metal pot of water on the fire. Mingo slipped his knife out of its sheath and placed the top two inches in the flame. 

"Madam, my name is Mingo. Thank you for your help. What may I call you?"

"Name's Justina."

Mingo looked into her hazel eyes and was disturbed by their expression. Resignation resided there, and a barely hidden desperation. A current of anger flowed just under the other emotions. Now that he was close to her he could see healed scars on both cheeks. She noticed the direction of his gaze and covered both her cheeks with her hands. Mingo looked away and checked the temperature of the water. 

"Do you have another cloth to use as a bandage? Maybe a towel?" 

Justina reached into the wagon and pulled out a small face towel. Mingo went to Charles' side and uncoiled his whip. Charles understood and placed a length of the whip between his teeth. Then with Mingo's help he rolled onto his stomach, gripped the wagon wheel in both hands, and nodded his head. Mingo pulled his shirt up, firmly grasped his knife and cut an inch gash across the raised bump on Charles' lower back. Charles stiffened in pain and bit down hard on the leather braid. Mingo reached his knife tip under the ball and flipped it out. Then he pressed the towel against Charles' bleeding back. 

"Justina, hand me a strip from you underskirt please." Mingo wound the strip over the towel, pulled Charles' shirt down over the wound, and covered him carefully with his own blanket. As Mingo stood he became aware of a moaning wail from the child's grave. He turned to Justina and motioned for her to come close.

"Charles told me that you and Pearl wish to leave these two men. Is that so?" Mingo's voice was soft and his expression was anxious. He was faced with a wounded man, two women and two children miles from any town. The two men were unlikely to let them go far unmolested. 

Justina looked into Mingo's worried face and nodded. "I can shoot. And so can Pearl, if'n she has to."

"What about the two boys? They are your sons?"

"No sir, they ain't. They belong to Horace. The man who's married to me."

"Are you planning on taking them with you, then?"

"No way, no how. Horace'd use that as an excuse to come after me. If'n I leave 'em, maybe he won't bother."

"What about Pearl?"

"You seen what Oscar's like. You think she wants to stay with him?"

"Does she have any other children besides the little girl?"

"Nope, and now she don't have Ladybug neither."

Mingo was taken aback at the lack of emotion in Justina's eyes. Her voice was as expressionless as if she was reading a list. In the bright daylight he could see that the scars on her cheeks had been made by a knife. Once again she noticed his gaze and put her hands up to her face.

"Horace done that last winter when I dared to question his decision about comin' out here. Said he couldn't abide no wife of his back-talkin' and wanted me to never ferget that."

Mingo drew in his breath sharply. Brutality was not unknown to him, but he had never before known of men as cold as these two must be. Quickly his mind decided to put as much distance as possible between the two men and those in his care. He strode to Charles' side and leaned over the other man. 

Charles tried to sit up. Mingo pushed him back down. "Not now. Lay there and rest. I'll make ready and then get you." Mingo patted his shoulder and went to the second wagon. Justina stood nearby, watching him. He silently beckoned to her. 

"We will take all four horses. Gather only the bare necessities for you and Pearl, roll them and tie them. Take only the barest cooking utensils."

Justina nodded and began throwing Horace's belongings out of the wagon as she dug for her things. From his place tied to the wheel Horace cursed and bellowed, straining against his tight bonds. When Justina passed in front of him to gather Pearl's things she did not move far enough away and he kicked behind her knees and dropped her right in front of him. He kicked her twice in the side before she could get up. As he readied for another kick Mingo brought his foot down in the man's groin and pressed hard. 

Horace's high-pitched yelp caused the horses to partially rear in their harness. They jerked the wagon forward, dragging the bound man with them. The wheel rotated as far as it could, twisting Horace's body as it revolved. His left shoulder was badly wrenched.

Mingo quickly sprang for the nearest horse and quieted it. Horace continued to yell and curse, causing all four horses to roll their eyes in panic. 

"Justina, come here quickly! Hold these horses and quiet them."

Mingo trotted to the other team and quieted them with his gentle hands and soft voice. They looked at him with wide eyes. Their experiences warned them to beware of all men 

but Mingo's gentle manner encouraged them to settle. Soon they were standing quietly. Not so the team Justina held. She had no experience with horses and the off horse was nearly panicked enough to run. 

"Mingo!" Charles' voice was filled with urgency. "Justina can't hold the horses!"

Mingo ran the ten yards to stand opposite of Justina. He gently stroked the horse and spoke softly in its ear. After a few minutes both horses quieted and stood still. Mingo nodded to Justina and she continued to gather belongings. 

She held her side where Horace had kicked her, walking in a crouch to lessen the pain. Mingo watched her and shook his head with anger. He released the team and tied them to the nearest tree. Then he walked to Justina's side.

"Are your ribs broken?" he asked softly.

"I don't think so. He wasn't sittin' square or he'd a broke 'em for sure. I was stupid to walk so close. Deserved what I got."

Mingo grasped her arm firmly. "Don't ever say that. No one deserves to be treated like you've been treated. No one." She lifted her hazel eyes to his, puzzlement and doubt evident in her gaze. 

"If you will finish gathering what you and Pearl need I will start packing the horses."

Justina nodded and Mingo walked back to the rear team and unhitched them from the wagon. He stripped off the harness, cutting the reins shorter to be easily used. He tied them to the wagon tongue.

Pearl began to wail as Justina tried to pull her off her child's grave. Horace let loose with another string of curses. "Stupid dumb slut. Shut up! You sound like a damned panther a'screechin'!"

Mingo reached into the wagon, pulled out a man's shirt, tore a sleeve free and quickly tied the gag into the foul man's mouth. He did the same to Oscar, who remained unconscious from the blow Charles delivered. Then he walked to Pearl and helped Justina raise her. She continued to wail and beat her hands against her head. Together they dragged her to the tied horses.

"Stay with her," Mingo said. He tied the small bundles Justina had prepared and tossed them over the horses' withers. Then he did the same to his pack and Charles'. Finally, he bent and helped Charles to his feet. The small man balanced himself against the horse's body, steadying himself. After several seconds he nodded to Mingo and the Cherokee boosted him onto the horse. Justina and Mingo helped Pearl onto her horse, then Mingo helped Justina mount. 

He made one final tour of the camp, looking for anything they had missed. He gathered Charles' rifle, one of the traveler's rifles and his own, rolled his whip, threw the other rifle out into the woods, threw the shot pouches and powder horns the opposite way, then mounted his own horse. 

Just as he turned the horse's head he remembered the two boys. "Justina, where are the boys?"

She shrugged carelessly. Mingo frowned and she nudged her horse near his. "You got no reason to be aworryin' about them boys. They're wilder 'n coons. They'll come back 'n untie their pa. We'd best be gettin'on down the road a ways afore they unloose their daddy. I'm thinkin' Horace 'n Oscar'll prob'bly come after us, just 'cause they don't like losing what belongs to 'em. And they think me 'n Pearl belongs to 'em. Maybe the boys'll slow 'em down a mite."

Mingo looked at Charles, leaning on his horse's neck. "Charles? Can you ride?"

Charles straightened and stiffened his spine. "Let's go Mingo. We'd best get as far as we can afore night. These two varmints can prob'bly see in the dark like weasels."

Mingo nodded, moved his horse behind the other three to act as rear guard, and the four new companions headed west with the sun.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Pearl remained withdrawn and quiet, her grief plain upon her pale scared face. Like Justina she bore the effects of her husband's brutality. As he sat through the night keeping guard over the two women and Charles, Mingo pondered the behavior of the people he'd found in the wilderness.

Two passive women, evidently living as wives for years to two sadistic men. The human capacity for endurance awed him, but his own chivalrous nature rebelled at the other men's obvious cruelty. As he lightly dozed his mind circled, searching for understanding.

In the morning he checked Charles' healing wound, then left the camp in search of meat. In a short hour he was back with a yearling deer. Quickly Mingo cut the meat into long strips and propped them over the fire on long thin sticks. Justina had prepared a pot of coffee while he was gone and he gratefully accepted a hot cup of the strong brew. He was sleepy. He knew he needed to stay alert to protect himself and his three companions. To that end he drank cup after cup of coffee, even instructing Justina to make another pot while he checked the roasting meat. Pearl sat staring sightlessly into the fire. 

Without warning Pearl threw herself onto the campfire, the flames quickly catching her cloth dress and long loosened brown hair. She screamed as the flames seared her skin. Mingo leaped to pull her out. He and Charles dragged her over the fire ring as Justina threw the pot of heating water on Pearl's burning hair. The two men rolled her on the ground to put out the flames consuming her dress.

The burned woman thrashed in agony, her screams piercing the morning stillness. Most of her bodice was gone and patches of burned skin showed plainly. Nearly all of her hair had burned off including her eyebrows. She shivered uncontrollably. 

"Charles, what shall we do? I don't know how to treat burns this severe!" Mingo's voice plainly disclosed his near panic.

Charles sat holding his throbbing side and shook his head. "Justina, what do we do?" Mingo turned to the silent woman standing beside him.

"Shoot her and put her out of her misery, like you would a dog I reckon."

Mingo's head snapped up and his eyes widened in horror at her calm pronouncement. Pearl's screams continued as she writhed in agony on the ground. Mingo stood and grabbed his blanket, carefully wrapping Pearl's body against the morning chill. He rolled her on her back and forced himself to examine the damage. She continued to scream and twist in pain. Both hands were badly burned, as were her forearms, shoulders, and breasts. The wounds seeped a bloody liquid continuously. Her face was nearly destroyed, the eyebrows and eyelashes gone, the skin burned and blistered around her lips and eyes. The skin of her scared cheeks was bubbled and fiery red. 

Mingo turned from his examination and stared sightlessly into the forest. After several seconds he walked to the deer carcass and carefully examined it for any fat deposits. There was very little. As he rose from his futile search Pearl's screams faded and she breathed in staggered gasps. Charles crawled to her side and took her claw-like left hand. Justina stood watching, her face an expressionless mask. 

Pearl pulled her eyelids open, exposing the reddened blue eyes. She stared sightlessly into the blue summer sky. One word passed her split, charred lips: Ladybug. Then her body shuddered strongly, her back arched, and the ragged breathing stopped. Beside her Charles leaned over and placed his hand over her mouth and nose. There was no breath.

Charles exchanged a long, sorrowful look with Mingo. The tall Cherokee bent to pick up a large rock and spent the next hour covering Pearl's burned body with a layer of Kentucky rocks. Charles fashioned a rough cross and Mingo carefully pounded it into the ground at Pearl's head with a fist-sized rock. 

Justina gathered the camp equipment as matter-of-factly as though nothing unusual had happened. Both men watched her, unbelieving. She had shown no emotion at all in the hours the men had known her. None.

When Pearl was completely covered the two men stood beside her body with bowed heads. Justina stood nearby, also silent. Suddenly she spoke. "Pearl always was a bit strange. Doted on Ladybug liken she were a pet. Sung to her ever' night. Didn't pay no attention to nothin' else. Guess she's where she wanted to be, wherever that is. At least she's done got away from Oscar for good."

Mingo and Charles stared at the young woman's calm face. She turned and slung the camp equipment over Pearl's horse. Then she mounted her horse and sat waiting for the men. With another uneasy look Mingo helped Charles to mount. Then he mounted his own horse, took Pearl's horse's reins and led the way toward Salem. He and Charles had decided that the best plan was to seek the aid of the law. Wordlessly the three left the morning camp and the pile of rocks that marked the earthly remains of Pearl Radler.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Four days later the three were a day's travel from Salem. Charles' wound was healing quickly and the two men enjoyed riding beside each other catching up on the twelve years that had passed since they'd parted company just west of the mountains. Justina rode ahead of them, silent for hours. As Charles' wound healed he insisted on taking his turn as camp guard, allowing Mingo to sleep enough to satisfy his need to keep alert. On the fourth night the crickets stopped suddenly. Charles nudged Mingo's foot and the Cherokee was instantly awake. He grasped his rifle and pointed his body the opposite way from Charles. The sky was brightening in the east as the morning approached. 

"We will be a target very soon if we don't move now." Mingo's voice was just above a whisper. 

Charles rolled silently to Justina and placed his hand over her mouth. His touch caused the young woman to startle awake. Charles whispered to her, and the two crawled as silently as possible to Mingo's side. The two men indicated that Justina was to crawl into the nearby forest. She obeyed silently and soon disappeared into the shadows. Mingo and Charles crawled side by side after her. They carefully stood, using trees to shield their bodies. Mingo gestured and Charles nodded. The two men split up, searching for Justina. Charles found her and gave a horned owl call. Mingo answered in kind. 

Charles found a small brushy area and pushed Justina behind it. Minutes later Mingo found them. Mingo knelt beside the woman and whispered to her. "Stay where you are, no matter what happens. Understand?"

She nodded silently, then pulled his face down to hers. "Thank you. For what you and Charles are doin', and for what you done already. I owe you both. You and him be careful now. Horace and Oscar are meaner'n a rattlesnake and just as quick. They'll kill you both an' enjoy doin' it. Mind what I say." Unconsciously she stroked her scared cheek. Mingo saw the gesture and understood her meaning. The two men would make his death as horrible as possible. Charles' too. And then they would take her.

Mingo crawled to Charles' side. He leaned close to the small frontiersman and whispered into his ear. "Charles, take Justina and get as far away as you can. Go now."

Charles grabbed Mingo's arm, shaking his head fiercely. "I ain't about to leave you, 'n you know it. Them two what's follerin' us'll shoot you, then cut you to pieces. I seen others like 'em before."

Mingo smiled. "So have I, Charles. Please do as I ask. I will be much more likely to defeat them if I know that you and Justina are safe. I need to be able to concentrate on them." Mingo's dark eyes held Charles' eyes for several seconds. Then Charles nodded his head and slipped silently through the forest. He returned with Justina behind him. 

Leaning close, Charles whispered. "You show 'em no mercy, Mingo, or they'll kill you. Mind what I'm sayin'. Unless'n you've changed your coat, you're a man with a conscience and they'll use that agin you if they can. You're worth a whole bushel o' men like they is. Don't give 'em ary chance to use your good heart agin you. I won't be far."

Charles squeezed Mingo's arm, then slipped silently through the trees with Justina behind him. 

Mingo checked his rifle, then leaned it against a nearby tree. He stretched his lean body, flexing his muscled arms and legs to limber his body in readiness for the coming fight. Then he grasped his rifle, climbed a large oak and waited.

Only minutes later he spotted Horace and Oscar slipping through the trees. The two little boys were several paces behind the men, leading two winded horses. Mingo sat and watched them until they came within twenty feet of his tree. Then he cocked the hammer on his rifle and carefully took aim.

"Stop unless you want a ball through your head." Mingo's voice echoed strongly through the morning air. Startled, Oscar and Horace froze. Then Horace accepted Mingo's challenge.

"Up a tree, you cowardly redskin? Where's your little white brother?"

Mingo's voice responded from the leafy veil above them. "Lay down your rifles. I am willing to face you both, man to man, and discover who is the coward. Are you willing to accept my challenge, or are you too yellow to fight me as a man?"

Mingo's words hung in the air as the too brutal men thought about his challenge. High in the oak Mingo prayed his gamble would accomplish the results he so desperately sought. He knew that men who were determined to kill would do anything to that end, and honor meant nothing to them. He was hoping that their thirst for brutality would cause them to make a mistake that he could capitalize upon.

Oscar and Horace exchanged a long look. Mingo saw the expression on their faces, cruel and dark with the lust to kill. An uncontrollable shudder passed through his lean body. He threw down another challenge.

"I will fight both of you at once. Surely you have enough faith in yourselves to accept that condition."

The two men grinned at each other, then leaned their rifles against a tree. 

"Back away thirty feet and turn your backs. I will climb down and we will begin. I do expect you to allow me to fully descend before you attack me. Else there will be little sport in killing me, wouldn't you say?"

"Come on down, Injun. We won't jump ya. We want to enjoy beatin' the feathers outa ya. We want ya to feel ever' blow we give ya. We won't shoot ya."

Mingo carefully climbed out of the oak, balancing his rifle in the lowest branches of the tree. He then strode to the other two rifles and dumped the powder from the frizzen pans. He propped the rifles behind the tree. The two large men turned as one and faced their adversary.

Calmly Mingo uncoiled his whip. The two men smiled menacingly and split apart, intending to attack Mingo from two sides. As Mingo watched them circle toward him, his gaze fell upon the two little boys standing frozen only fifty feet away.

"Stop! Your boys are behind you, watching."

Horace laughed mirthlessly. "How you expect 'em to learn how to kill Injuns iffen they don't watch? You're their first lesson. I'm countin' on ya to make a good 'un."

Oscar guffawed and sprang toward Mingo's body from the left, his knife drawn. Mingo whirled and snapped his whip, catching Oscar's unguarded left ear. The whip sliced the soft tissue away from the man's head as cleanly as if it had been removed with a knife. Oscar's scream echoed off the surrounding trees as he dropped his knife and clutched the bleeding stump. Horace swiftly made an attack on Mingo's right.

The Cherokee allowed his momentum to propel him full circle as he snapped his wrist and sent the lash whistling to likewise maim Horace Radler. But unlike his brother Horace continued his attack, bellowing like a bull as the blood spurted from the stump of his left ear. Mingo leaped backwards, spun around a tree and snapped his whip behind Horace, the tassels catching the back of the husky man's upper arm. Instantly a long red furrow opened through the faded green calico. 

Oscar had recovered enough to grab his empty rifle and swing it like a club at Mingo's head. From the corner of his eye Mingo saw the motion and again leaped backward, ducking at the same time. His whip caught the long rifle barrel and he jerked the weapon from Oscar's bloody hands. Horace used the opportunity to leap at Mingo's back with his knife, but the Cherokee swung the entangled rifle and struck his opponent in the side of the head with the long metal barrel. Horace dropped like a rock at Mingo's feet.

Swiftly Mingo disentangled the rifle from his whip as he dodged sideways through the trees. He circled quickly around an ancient elm and caught Oscar under the chin with the whip's tassel. A furrow several inches long split under the bone and sprayed blood on Oscar's throat and shirt front. Mingo spun on his heel and laid the rifle barrel against Oscar's head, the force of the blow knocking Oscar several feet through the air. 

Horace regained his feet and attacked Mingo's back again. Hearing the rushing footsteps behind him Mingo whirled and caught Horace around the throat with his whip. Mingo stepped behind the struggling man and jerked backward. Pulling the cursing man to his body, he kneed Horace in the back. Horace screamed as his right short rib broke free. Mingo pushed him away just as Oscar regained his feet. The two brothers fell together, Oscar struggling to get at Mingo and Horace writhing on the ground in pain.

Bellowing in rage, Oscar lunged at Mingo's throat with his knife. Mingo again spun away and the whip curled around the other man's knife hand. With a jerk Mingo brought that hand close to his body and chopped down hard with his left hand. Oscar dropped the knife but pulled on the whip, drawing Mingo close. He punched the Cherokee hard on the jaw, causing his head to snap back with the force. The two fell as Mingo lurched backward, pulling his adversary with him. He rolled with the large body, jumped to his feet and again snapped his whip. Quick as a striking snake the leather tassels bit into the other man's face, slicing his cheek and causing the blood to pour down his thick neck. A string of curses poured out of his mouth and Mingo flicked his whip to split the foul man's lips.

Suddenly he felt himself being squeezed by two burly arms. Horace had regained his feet and grabbed Mingo around the body. The two grappled together for several seconds, Mingo tall and strong, Horace heavy and low to the ground. The whip was caught between Mingo's body and Horace's arms.

Mingo quickly leaned forward, then jabbed his elbow into the other man's ribs. With a tremor the heavy arms loosened and Mingo slipped away, turned and sent the whip's coils hissing through the air to wrap around Horace's legs. Mingo pulled the other man off his feet. He head hit a large sycamore, then he landed hard. This time Horace lay where he was.

Oscar saw his chance and slashed for Mingo's unprotected chest with his recovered knife. But Mingo had seen the strike and leaped backward just in time. Off balance once again, Oscar was easily tripped as Mingo kicked him in the knee. He fell forward and rolled. Mingo stopped the roll with his foot, then as he had done only days before, pressed his heel down with ever increasing pressure on the other man's inner leg close to the groin. 

"Lie still and I will go no farther. Struggle, and I will press harder." Mingo's voice gave no doubt of his meaning, and Oscar Radler lay completely still, breathing hard and cursing through his bloody lips. "Stop cursing," Mingo demanded as he pressed down harder. Oscar tightened his bleeding lips and did as Mingo directed. 

Through the trees Charles ran to tie the unconscious Horace Radler to the large sycamore that had felled him. Then the slight frontiersman bound the docile Oscar Radler's hands and feet. Mingo released the pressure and Charles pulled the heavy man upright. Oscar pushed Charles and lunged at Mingo, but the tall Cherokee was ready for just such an action and clubbed the enraged man over the head with the loaded butt of his whip. Now unconscious Oscar lay beside his similarly unconscious brother Horace. 

Silently from the forest Justina slipped to her husband's side. She stared at his unconscious face, then reached for Oscar's knife lying inches away. Dispassionately she carved two parallel lines down his unconscious face. When Charles moved to stop her Mingo reached out a restraining hand. With set lips and burning eyes he watched as the abused woman carved three sets of lines down the heavy man's face.

"Charles, it is his due. He wanted Justina to always remember his brutal ways, and now he will have a like reminder. I see it as complete justice, and I won't let you interfere."

Justina repeated the action on Oscar's slack face, then she stood and threw the knife as far away as she could. She burst into tears and stood sobbing for all the bitter times that she couldn't. As the two men watched compassionately she cried for Ladybug and Pearl, for the two silent boys and for her own wasted years. Mingo silently stooped and built a small fire as Charles went to comfort the sobbing woman. He allowed it to burn for several minutes, then shoved the burning sticks aside and rubbed the blackened ends into the palm of his left hand. He squatted beside the still unconscious Oscar and rubbed the dark ash into the brutal man's bleeding cuts. He repeated the action on Horace's bleeding face. Charles watched as his mind tried to reconcile the tall silent man before him with the naïve, eager youth he had known years before. Finally he turned away and walked into the forest to quiet his pounding heart.

When Charles returned he found Justina sitting beside the fire drinking a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Beside her sat the two silent little boys. Mingo wrapped their thin shoulders in his own blanket as the cool of the evening settled over the wilderness. Charles had a turkey in his hand and quickly cleaned the bird to roast over the small fire. Mingo cut a small sapling to use as a spit. Soon the fragrance of roasting turkey filled the immediate area. 

Horace was the first to regain consciousness. Charles saw his head come up and nudged Mingo. The tall Cherokee strode to his opponent's side and stood looking down on the ruined face. 

"Horace Radler, you have been punished for your years of brutality. So has your brother. Charles Hays, Justina Radler and I will continue into Salem and press charges against you two. If I were you, I'd disappear into this wilderness and never show your face in civilized society again. You are branded as the cowards that you are. You bear the marks for all to see. They will remain until your life ends as a reminder of your bloody deeds. We will leave you both tied. I suggest that you free yourselves before the animal predators find you and make your last moments a living hell."

Mingo spun on his heel and rejoined his friends at the fire. Deep in the forest they could all hear the eerie howls. The two boys shivered and leaned against Justina. Beside them Charles Hays lay his arm over their shoulders. His hand brushed Justina's arm and she turned to look at him. His warm smile brought a halting response. As she continued to look into Charles' light eyes her smile grew. Mingo saw it all and smiled to himself. 

The next day the three people did as Mingo had promised. After the constable had taken the sworn statements Mingo, Charles, Justina and the boys stood on the sidewalk to say goodbye. Charles grasped Mingo's hand firmly, his light blue eyes sparkling. Beside him Justina held the little boy's hand. The older boy stood at Charles' left elbow. 

"Mingo, I've thought o' you now an' agin', wonderin' how you made out. I won't wonder no more 'cause I can see that you growed into a man o' pride. I admire the way you took them two no-accounts down. It were a sight to see. And you give me a story to tell for the rest o' my life. I hope you have a long string o' stories ahead o' you."

Mingo smiled. "I hope the same for you Charles." He nodded to Justina. "And you have the chance at a long life too Justina. Now you can be the woman you want to be."

Justina smiled fully for the first time since Mingo had known her. Her hazel eyes were no longer filled with anger and despair. Mingo raised his hand in farewell, then strode down the Salem street toward the west and home. Behind him four people, beginning their new lives, watched his figure grow smaller and disappear into the surrounding Carolina forest. And somewhere in that dark forest two brutal men were free.


End file.
